


That silly, stupid ache.

by songofproserpine



Series: AkeShu: The Thing That Feels [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 09:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12296241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofproserpine/pseuds/songofproserpine
Summary: From a Tumblr prompt: "Basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss."“Look at me!” Goro wanted to scream, slamming his fists onto the counter and making his coffee mug lurch out from its saucer. “Look at me and smile. Look at me and laugh.” But those words were best left unsaid, best left to rot in the silence.So why were his hands shaking? Why did his mouth tingle and burn, as if there were something aching on the edge of his lips?





	That silly, stupid ache.

Goro had never kissed anyone else before. Never wanted to. Never cared. Never really understood the need for it, if he were being honest. Much like holding hands or supportive pats on the back, kissing was just one intimate gesture he never quite understood.

At least, not until Ren showed up. But even then, things like desire and need and want weren’t just a simple line. There was too much viciousness in what Goro wanted from the other boy. A violence to crave and control, a need to be wanted, but not wanting to be _needed._ That was too much responsibility.

And yet, here Goro sat. In Leblanc, within arm’s reach of the boy causing all this inner turmoil.

Goro held his breath and tried not to scream. The last thing he needed right now was attention–good, bad, anything in between. His eyes darted over to Ren, quickly assessing the other boy’s expression. He was just finishing up a fresh pot of coffee, blissfully unaware of both Goro’s gaze and his stormy temper. He even had a breezy, faint smile on his face to complete the look.

All too quickly, Goro’s mood soured. _I hate that smile. I hate that mouth. I hate his sharp, knowing look and that easy laugh._

Ren had a mouth more expressive than most faces could ever be. The smallest shifts from a flat line into a crooked, sickle smirk said more than most words or even laughter could convey. And his smile was  _lethal_ , armed to the teeth. Out of Ren’s entire arsenal of expressions, Goro hated his smiles the most. Lopsided and cocksure and worst of all, effortlessly honest.

It was annoying.

It was… distracting. Distracting o the point where Goro, who was never artistically inclined, even began to sketch phantoms of Ren’s mouth in the margins of his notebooks. School notes and case files were haunted by little traces of that broad, foolish grin.

 _I did this to myself,_ Goro thought as he sketched yet another copy of Ren’s mouth, this time on the edge of a Leblanc napkin. It was a risky move, all things considered. Ren was right _there_ , but he gave Goro a silence and distance that was both polite and absolutely infuriating.

 _“Look at me!”_  Goro wanted to scream, slamming his fists onto the counter and making his coffee mug lurch out from its saucer.  _“Look at me and smile. Look at me and laugh.”_  But those words were best left unsaid, best left to rot in the silence.

So why were his hands shaking? Why did his mouth tingle and burn, as if there were something aching on the edge of his lips?

He turned his attention back to the napkin sketch. Goro ran his fingers through the still-wet ink, smearing Ren’s smile into a monster of itself.  _I did this to myself, and I’m not sorry._  He brought his fingers up to his mouth and traced his bottom lip. A small, black smudge of ink marred Goro’s own mouth; he could almost taste it.

And before he could do anything about it, Ren took him by surprise and finally decided to pay Goro a little bit of attention.

“You’ve got a little something there,” Ren said, lightly tapping his own bottom lip.

Goro ran his teeth along the inside of his cheek. For a moment, for one determined flash of fury, he still wanted to scream, but checked the urge at the last second.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” he said, forcing a laugh.

Ren let the laughter fall flat before he responded. “C'mere,” he said with a nod of his head and a twist of his hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Goro watched as Ren walked over to the sink at the back of Leblanc and held his hand under the faucet. Well, what choice did he have? Goro was off the stool and on his feet in a slow, lazy string of movements, feeling too much like a marionette: disconnected, segmented, like he was an audience to his own life.

Ren smiled at him in a reassuring way, but Goro’s lips surged with that secret fire once more. I burned his throat and his chest, it filled him with a pounding heartache.

Still smiling, still completely unaware, Ren held up his still-wet hand and slowly, gently, reached out for Goro’s mouth. “Hold still.”

“Do your worst,” Goro heard himself say, wondering where he’d gotten the nerve.

Ren’s lips twisted up, all crooked and devilishly charming. Goro felt his stomach twist, as if a whole host of butterflies were released somewhere in his belly–but then he felt Ren’s thumb press down against his bottom lip, rubbing in a persistent, but not unpleasant way, and the butterflies fled.

His mind went blank. Every nerve in his body was dulled, dead, unwilling to feel. So Goro stood very, very still, keenly aware of every second that Ren’s thumb stayed in contact with his skin. He checked the urge to bite down on his lip as Ren’s thumb strayed into braver strokes, forming small circles that all but traced the center of Goro’s mouth.

Without thinking, without even pausing to consider if he  _should_ think about it, Goro pushed his lips up against the pad of Ren’s thumb in the closest thing to a kiss.

Ren didn’t move, didn’t blink. And then, too soon, he lowered his hand, and Goro’s heart sank with it.

Apologies burst in full bitter bloom inside Goro’s mind, and they were en route to his lips just as Ren steadied his hands on Goro’s shoulders and leaned in. Goro bent forward obediently, making up for the small discrepancy in their heights before he knew just what he was doing–or what Ren had planned.

Their first, proper kiss was awkward and hard, the honest and sudden collision of two boys not knowing their own hearts’ strength, or the need within them. But they eased into it together, slowly, with care and an almost greedy precision, taking the time to taste and explore.

Goro had no idea how much time had passed with the two of them standing there, but by the low, satisfied sound rippling from his throat, and Ren’s breathless sigh, he figured it had to be a few minutes. At least a commercial break’s length of time; the TV was blaring some fast food ad loudly, from a spot over their heads. Goro wanted to turn it off (all the better to hear any and every sound his kisses drew from Ren’s mouth) but he didn’t have a chance.

“We should wait ‘til we’re in a place a little more private than this,” Ren said, stepping back from Goro in what little space the alcove allowed.

Goro’s heart sank again, but he found it easier to bear this particular disappointment. His mouth was almost swollen from all those kisses, and the burn in them had been chased away, scattered, utterly forgettable. “If you’d like,” he said, well aware of the thunder in his heart and the hunger still gnawing and clawing through his chest.

Ren smiled at him. It was a new smile, one Goro had never seen before. Not lopsided or sickle-sharp, not wicked or glinting or devilish at all. Just small and honest—and somewhere vulnerable.

 _My_ smile, Goro thought, his pulse kicking up into a rapid clip.  _My smile–just for me._

Goro reached down, cupped Ren’s face between his gloved hands, and held the other boy steady as he leaned in for one more greedy kiss. After a moment, Ren covered Goro’s hands with his own and laughed. His voice was quiet as a secret, as low as a sigh, and his smile was soon covered in the crush of Goro’s hungry lips.

 


End file.
